The Colonel slowly opened the door to Muthkat's old room, a sense of dread overcoming him as saw the inside of it. The mayor had told him that nothing had been found to indicate her reasons for killing herself, but he had to be sure. He had known Muthkat for a long time, and knew that such a decision would not have been made lightly. His eyes fell on the contents of the room. On her bed lay her diary, still open to the last page from when it had been read by the mayor in the investigation. He briefly scanned it, but saw nothing of relevance: mostly discussion of the undead and how to defeat them. It had been dated to almost a month before her disappearance and subsequent discovery, so if she had been considering her death at the time it didn't come across in her writing. He turned to leave, when suddenly he saw a piece of paper wedged behind her bed. Gingerly, he pulled it out and realized it was a folded letter, with the words, "For Colonel Ironbeard" on the front. With shaking hands, he unfolded the paper to read the words.
Dear Colonel,
I'm not entirely sure how I should start a letter for such circumstances, as I'm sure that by the time you are reading this I will already be dead. I know you must be wondering why I chose the path I did, so I'll try and explain myself to you as best I can, as a sort of parting gift. I don't know whether you will understand it or if I can even explain it well enough to be comprehensible, but I promise to try.
I remember when I was a young dwarf, joining the army out of a naive belief that I could defend my fellow dwarves from the depredations of the evil elves. I was young and foolish, feeling like I could take on the world. But now, thinking back on it, I realize just how ignorant I was. There is no sense in war, no rationality or soundness of thought. War is an ugly thing, a process that takes in young, promising sentients and turns out blood and corpses. I even feel pity for the elves, those that are supposedly our enemies, for they, too, have been mislead by their elders into believing that war is the only option. When you go to war, you lose a part of yourself that you can never regain. If we could have even a temporary peace between our peoples, I am sure we could reconcile our differences and find a way to get along in a permanent manner.
Here I am, speaking of peace again. Yet the only time I feel truly alive is when I am fighting for my life, when all that matters is myself and my opponent, and only one of us can get out of the battle alive. I preach peace, and yet I am a creature of war, a product of the very machine that I rail against. I am the famed Berserker of Ivybolts, the first of the champions of the fortress. What right do I have to preach peace, when my hands are stained with the blood of so many from the past. In death, perhaps, my hands can be washed clean of all this blood, so that I may finally be free of the chains that have followed me since that great mistake of joining the military.
I'm sure I didn't explain that in a way that you could understand, but I want you to know that you shouldn't blame yourself. My death was not your fault, nor was there anything you could have done. I hope that you can forgive me for my actions, and that in the end you can see me in a positive light once more.
Farewell, my colonel, my friend. Fare thee well in your life and, Armok willing, may we once again share a drink in the halls of the gods some day.
A tear rolled down the Colonel's face as he gently folded up the letter, placing it in his leather backpack. "Damn it lass, that wasn't the way to free yourself. Not like that. Not in that way."
I know Muthkat's letter may sound like insane troll logic, but I can attest to the fact that when one is depressed and suicidal, it doesn't seem rational to the people around you, and yet it makes perfect sense in your head. It's the curse of being suicidal: nobody can understand the problem, so it's hard for others to help you.
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Topic: Ivybolt - On hiatus until parts may be acquired. (Read 26251 times)